Rukia
by DaisiesInTheHeart
Summary: I didn't know what exactly she was trying to say, but somehow her words hit a spot right inside of me. And so simple, without announcement and without drums, Kuchiki Rukia came into my life. IchiRuki
1. Prologue

**AN: **Hey_ guys :) _

_I'm trying to write a multi-chaptered Bleach story lately, never did it before so I'm really looking forward to how it goes, haha. Please be patient with me. College is haunting me in my dreams, in my life, just everywhere! So I can't promise a constant updating. Doesn't mean I won't try :)_

_For any suggestions or ideas about this work I'd be grateful._

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach and its characters.**

**_Please enjoy_**

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_Rukia_

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Prologue

It would be a lie if I say this moment wasn't one of the best moments in my entire life. One of the most beautiful and happiest I ever had the luck to experience. Truly experience with all its facets and colors. Not only being a witness to something someone else lives to see. Not like being a bystander who's damned to observe the other's beautiful moments. Always only getting a glimpse of happiness, but never getting a hold of it. It would be a shameless lie if I say this wasn't one of the best moments in my entire life.

The blue of the sky is a shade I've never seen before in my life, at least not in real life. It is one of those blues that reminds you of wide, white shores and pretty light blue water with a soft shade of green. Not a single cloud. The sun shines through the window and the curtains are sluggishly swinging in the soft, gentle breeze. It doesn't rain, which is so important to me. And it is just for this moment, that I actually realize how much.

She has fallen asleep. And I momentarily almost feel guilty because I didn't notice that she was that tired for the past few hours. Just momentarily, because it doesn't bother me that much how it actually should. But there is a smile on her face and I know she's happy, so it really doesn't matter. And I really just don't care.

I am, too. Happy I mean.

Slowly I tear my eyes from her and cast my glance down to look at the little infant in my arms. Her chubby cheeks are slightly painted red and her tiny little fingers are closed around my index finger with such a strong hold I never expected from a little newborn. As I look in her little face with her closed eyes, I carefully run my hand through her soft black hair. I am happy. I really am. But even _if_ this moment is one of the best of my life, one of the most beautiful, one of the happiest, it is not _the_ best. It is not _the_ most beautiful and unfortunately by far not _the_ happiest.

And I am not able to stop the memories that are flashing in. Am unable to stop myself from thinking about _her_, because it's she whom I owe this. This moment, this child, this life. This all. And it's her. She, who is my best moment in my entire life. The most beautiful and the happiest.

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I met her down in my hometown, almost ten years ago. Honestly, I actually don't remember much of that day, because everything before her seems like a blur. Fragments of memories, which I know are there. Pieces of pictures that begin to whirl and getting hazy every time I try to focus on them. Always slipping away from my grip. But it wasn't raining, either. Which was a little wonder those days. I was in a real foul mood lately, since it was raining for weeks. And weather report said it wouldn't stop for another. And yeah, I know it sounds a bit cheesy, but it _didn't_ rain that day. I felt a little lighter then usual.

There is this memory of me waiting for the bus to bring me finally home. School was done for the day and surprisingly hadn't been as horrible as usual. But I wanted to go home, _badly_. I was tired and starving and just sullen. However, because I've always been the lucky guy, the bus was of course running late. Annoyed I ran my hand through my hair and let out a heavy sigh.

I don't know exactly why I had my guitar with me that day. And every time I try to remember the reason my head starts hurting, so I gave it up years ago. Slowly I pulled it out of its bag after checking that the bus still hadn't come. When I was younger my mom send me to lessons but I stopped going the day she died. But for some unknown reason I never stopped playing. Somehow, I always liked the sound of it and the thought that my own hands were able to create such timbres. I positioned the guitar on my lab and started playing a tune I picked up some days before. Sitting there for who knows how long, waiting for that damn bus that was supposed to bring me fucking home. It was just a little pathetic. And suddenly someone put 1500 Yen on my guitar bag.

She was so tiny and looked so fragile. But everything in her appearance told me that she wasn't. Her black hair was short and reached just down to her chin. Her bluish eyes shone in the light of the sun. A white sun dress. She always wore white, how I should learn.

She smiled lightly. It was small and soft, but real. I stared at her and the money she just gave me. I really believed she was just trying to pull on my strings.

"I'm not a drifter." I told her as she turned and sounded only a bit angry and offended. She looked back at me and pulled one of her eyebrows up.

"And I'm not stupid, you fool." Her voice was surprisingly deep. Raspy and hoarse. Incredibly strong for such a tiny thing. It suited her. She pointed her small hand in my direction. "You're still wearing your school uniform, unless you stole it." A pause. "Thief."

I must have looked really dumbfounded, because she started laughing. Soft and low.

"My only love lies in the things that inspire me", she explained softly and turned to go.

I didn't know what exactly she was trying to say, but somehow her words hit a spot right inside of me. There was something about her that made me panic, as she turned her back to me, and without a second guess I called after her.

"What's your name?" She stopped and casted me a questioning look. For some reason I didn't know what to say, so I just said the stupidest thing I could muster.

"Mine is Ichigo. So what is yours?"

Again that smile. Real and honest, so I could see in her eyes that she was trying to mock me.

"I tell you the next time we meet."

What a stupid answer.


	2. The way you are

**A/N: **_Hey :) I know it's a little late but here is the new chapter. And **thank you **very much for the nice comments and for adding my story to your favorit-list/ following it. Like always I appreciate any kinds of reviews. Hope you'll enjoy._

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**Rukia**

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**_The way you are._**

The next time I met her was five weeks later. I gave up the thought of meeting her again the day we've met. For me it was totally unrealistic to see someone you just met once in your life again just by coincidence in a city like Karakura.

So I didn't really expect her to ever walk up in my life again, like she did before. But I kind of happened to hope it anyway.

"See you tomorrow, Kurosaki-kun", Inoue waved at me, her smile bright on her face, as bubbly as ever. "I'm going to make cookies today. I'll bring you some if you want tomorrow. Or I can come by, so you don't have to wait _all_ night!"

I lifted my left hand to slightly wave back, barely repressing a sigh. Annoyed and tired as I was, not really in the mood to deal with her. But the glare Tatsuki threw at my way as she patiently stood beside me, waving Inoue good-bye, burning a hole in my skull I better did not say anything too harsh to the overly excited auburn haired girl.

"Thanks Inoue but I'm not really into cookies", I said. My voice low and tired. "See ya." Before she could say anything else I turned on my heels and went the opposite direction as her. Tatsuki just a few steps behind me.

"You love cookies. No need to be so rude to her", she said, rolling her eyes at me in annoyance as I looked at her.

"I wasn't rude. Actually I was nice, give me some credit." Sighing I ran a hand through my hair. Don't get me wrong I liked Inoue. She was one of my friends and a really nice girl. Always helping where she could. It was the fact that she was my friend and would be only that -a _friend_ _as long as I lived_- that annoyed me. Not her being my friend, just her being my friend who had a crush on me, a really huge and bad one. She never told me but honestly she didn't have to, though.

"Maybe you should try and go out with her on a date or something", Tatsuki suggested.

I groaned. "Don't! Just don't Tatsuki! I don't need you too to babble about how I should give it a go. I am not interested so deal with it."

She shot me a glare. "I know that!" A spent sigh came from her. "I just promised her to talk to you, ask you about your feelings for her. My job's done hereby. Sorry."

"She's your best friend."

"Yeah, she is. But she has to realize you both don't fit. Not the way she wants to anyway."

This was a topic I didn't want do discuss. So I said nothing and let an awkward silence settle in between us. Which, I preferred more than talking about girls with my childhood friend. No need here for that.

"See you tomorrow Ichigo." She waved as we reached her house and walked away.

With a heavy sigh I pushed the door open and stepped into the house as I reached my home. It was already late afternoon but I could still hear my father shuffling in the clinic next door.

"I'm home!" No answer from my sisters.

"Boy? Get me some of the O-Blood please!" I groaned annoyed as the voice of Dad waved over to me. Actually, the only thing I wanted to do today, on a Friday, was to lie down and sleep through the weekend. Or sleep through my whole life. Wouldn't make any difference. Shuffling into the clinic I glanced through the room and noticed that no one was in the waiting area. Grabbing some blood from the huge refrigerator I made my way back.

And there she was. Sitting on a bed in my father's clinic. Her legs swinging over the edge, her tiny hands securely placed on each side of her. Everything downcast. I was perplexed to see her here, to say the last. It wasn't the first time I helped my father to run his clinic. Since I realized with the innocent age of eight that I wanted to become a doctor, just like my stupid Dad, I always took the chance to help out and learn some things from him. And even if I wouldn't ever tell him, he _was_ good in these things. Helping people.

But I've never seen her here. And I would remember if, wouldn't I? Since Dad and she looked like they knew each other for years.

I dropped the blood I was supposed to bring on the little table right beside her bed. It had to be for her, because she was the last patient for the day. Patiently, I waited until my father was done with hooking an IV into her small hand and connecting the blood to her. He carefully placed her legs onto the bed and commanded her to lie down and to take it easy. She rolled her eyes at him and gave him a disapproving look.

"I can handle this shit", she said. Her voice drooped from annoyance.

Dad laughed his stupid laugh. "I know, munchkin."

"Don't call me that."

He put a pout on his lips and had this stupid look on his face that he always put on when trying to be cute and innocent. I don't need to say it never worked on somebody. "You'll let this one to an old man, won't you?" He ruffled her black hair, smiling softly at her with that kind of fondness in his eyes he normally held just for my younger twin sisters. Then he left. And I was alone with her. Her eyes lingered on the retreating form of my old goat Dad for a little while, before she let a soft sigh escape her lips, closing her eyes and resting her head back on the white pillow. She still didn't recognize my presence, so I cleared my throat and said a simple "Hi".

The look on her face was surprised as her eyes shot open, locking on me. But the moment she recognized me, a mocking smile placed itself on her face.

"The thief!" A soft laugh escaped her lips. "I knew I would see your stupid face again some day. Never thought so soon."

She really had the hang out of pushing my buttons. "I'm not a thief, you annoying shrimp!"

"I'm calling you a thief and claim your face stupid and all you have to say is about not being a thief?"

I felt my face heating up and prayed to some maybe-possibly-probably not existing God that my face wasn't as red as it felt. Or if it was, she didn't notice. Now that she mentioned it, my face wasn't stupid. And even if it were, I am not the one who had to look at it every day. So be it.

"Don't", she exclaimed. "It does make you sympathetic. Ichigo."

I don't know why, but my heart made a sudden leap in my chest. It some what pushed my mood, that she actually remembered my name.

"It's not fair, that you know my name but I not yours." I tell her.

A grin, spread on her face. "I've never asked you to tell me. But you seemed so overly eager to spill it."

"Then I'll just go with shockingly-short-dwarf." Now it was my turn to flash her an arrogant grin. As I watched her expression change it grew just wider. It faded the moment she kicked me in the knee. "Fuck!", I cried. "You crazy? You little…" Unfortunately I have to admit that it really did hurt. Damn that little crazy bitch. How could she be that fast? And much more important, that strong? She looked so breakable, fragile even. So small.

"Don't call me that."

"Then tell me your fucking name, _shockingly_-_short_-_dwarf_!"

She rolled her eyes at me. Pure annoyance was in her face. But there was that tiny soft smile on her lips too. It made myself smile at her.

"It's Kuchiki Rukia. Moron."

And so simple, without announcement and without drums, Kuchiki Rukia came into my life.

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If anyone had asked her what kind of person she is Rukia would've shrugged. She would cast her eyes down and look to the left side like if she were trying to remember something. Something she forgot a long time ago but belonged to her like the blood in her veins. Her eyebrows would pull together and her lips clench.

"I am who I am", she would say. "And that's good."

She would say it with some kind of finality and most wouldn't dare ask further. And most wouldn't understand what she meant with those words. In the way she said them. With the look on her face.

If anyone had asked me what kind of person Rukia is I wouldn't ponder long about that question. I would've looked in the distance like trying to see something far away but not really seeing.

"Rukia is the strongest person I know", I said once to my childhood friend Tatsuki after she asked that question. I was so sure I did know her. Better than myself. "She's honest and old in her way. Wise. But still a child."

If anyone would ask me today what kind of person Rukia is I wouldn't say anything like that anymore. Because I know her better than myself and back then I didn't know anything. Nothing at all.

"Rukia is Rukia and that's good", I would answer. Because if someone wants to say the truth about Rukia and the way she acted, the way she was, that is the only honest and true answer they can give. Rukia was not just strong and honest and old and wise and still a child. She wasn't anything of these things. She was everything of these things. And more and less in her own way. So imperfectly perfect. Rukia was Rukia. And that was more than good. It was everything, because _she_ was. And 'nothing' is contained in everything. Rukia knew it back then. I know it now.

tbc.


End file.
